


Daybreak

by JasDewDrops



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: AU, F/F, F/M, M/M, No Renesmee Cullen, Other, WerewolvesRemastered
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:34:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28368495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JasDewDrops/pseuds/JasDewDrops
Summary: Isabella Swan chose the dreary little town of Forks, Washington. It was an easy decision. As long as she had a home among the curious group of La Push boys, she wouldn't care what her new peers at school thought of her. Unfortunately, a single decision has set her on a tumultuous path with no return, and dancing on the other end is Forks' best-kept secret, Alice Cullen, a vampire.
Relationships: Alice Cullen/Bella Swan
Comments: 51
Kudos: 102





	1. First Vision:Bella

**Author's Note:**

> Bear with me here. I'm incredibly late and incredibly new to Twilight. I'm on Book 3, and your girl is not having some of this ish. How does one read Alice and not fall in love with her the second she enters the page? 
> 
> Also, this is a shape-shifters remastered story, so the lore behind the creation of the La Push wolves has changed as well as the pack dynamics and what abilities/limitations they have. The Chapter 4 (seven if you're using the index) note explains why Jacob and his friends are the Aki Tribe here, rather than the real-life Quileutes. Another massive change: imprinting will be consensual and won’t always lead to romance like the only examples provided in the book.

##  _Bella_

MY MOTHER DROVE ME TO THE AIRPORT with the windows rolled up. It was a rising seventy-five degrees in Phoenix, the sky a cloudless blue, the sun reigning high. She had asked earlier if I was okay with the heat quickly kicking in the car, but I was ready in a comfortably light, eyelet-lace shirt. My favorite and hers. The truth was, I didn’t need accommodations. Even if I had worn a sweater, the heat wouldn’t have bothered me. The top was simply to please me and my mother on this new life-altering occasion. 

She didn’t believe me when I told her that I had left my parka at home. After all, Forks, the small town located in the Olympic Peninsula of northwestern Washington, rarely saw the brilliance of the sun, let alone a sweltering day. It was from this town that my mother took me, a baby of a few months, and fled from its seemingly never endless rains, leaving my father Charlie in the process. Since then, I had traveled back and forth between the sun and clouds. But what my mother Renée didn’t know was that I had never left the warmth during any of these trips. All there was inside my carry-on was a cookbook and a car magazine filled with tips on how to optimize your automobile. No parka. 

Forks, Washington held warmth. And with great, swelling anxiety, I had decided to return once more and make it my permanent home. 

“Bella,” my mom said to me at the airport, “Are you sure about this?”

I looked at the wide-eyed woman who wore the same dark brown hair and widow’s peak I do, the same mousy face and pale skin, except hers was always a bit red on her nose and shoulders on account of the sun. Mom loved the sun, and I did too, but I’d had seventeen years of it alongside her, and now it was Charlie’s cloudy skies I yearned for. Though the thought of leaving my scatterbrained, too-flighty mother alone with her new husband did rack me with taught nerves, it didn’t change my mind about my decision. I loved her, but it was a perfect time for me to fly the nest.

“Yes, and it’s convenient for you and Phil. You can travel with him and his team for his matches, and I’ll only be a call and an email away. Anytime,” I reassured.

“Honey, I don’t want you to think you’re being a burden on me. If you decide to come home, I’m flying right back to Arizona,” she said, but I could tell she wanted to be with Phil and his baseball team as much as she wanted to be with me. It would be better if I chose for her.

“I don’t think that. Love you, Mom.”

“I love you too.” She hugged me before I got on the plane. “Say hi to Charlie for me.”

“I will.”

And then I was on a flight, on a new path, and she was gone.

The way to forks was as familiar to me as the gray-blue veins that stuck out like tracks on the back of my hand. It was four hours from Phoenix to Seattle, and then an hour flight from Seattle to Port Angeles, and finally, an hour drive from there to Forks. In total, I had six hours before my life became more than taking care of my mother and reading my beat-up copy of Wuthering Heights. I had to stop myself from counting down the minutes painfully, from nervously tapping my feet until my neighboring passengers asked to have me escorted off the plane for being such a nuisance.

I couldn’t really help it. A whole new world awaited me, and I wasn’t too keen on the waiting time. But I tried my best to lessen the burden by fussing over my cookbook, memorizing the author’s favorite ingredients, and critiquing where I felt she was lacking. It helped me remain calm, even though the excitement and the nerves never truly ceased to return if I let my mind wander vacantly.

There had been a time where I hated the mere idea of abandoning Phoenix for Forks. My car rides with Charlie had been awkward and ridden with my preteen snobbery. Why did I have let go of the sun and the city for some dead-end town in the middle of nowhere? When I turned fourteen, I swore I was going to put my foot down and end the needless back and forth. But that never happened. At fourteen, I’d found what Forks truly had to offer. 

When I arrived in Port Angeles, it was raining, and I snorted to myself at its predictable welcome. The few people scattered around the gates looked about as enthusiastic as I did back when I first started commuting. They wore thick jackets and hats, the colors washed out in gray as the light from the windows cloaked them in Port Angeles’ dreary aura. I would be lying if I said I didn’t pity them. I could feel the chill start to prick me too, but I knew it wouldn’t last.

The parking lot was mostly empty when I got there. It was maybe two or three steps before I heard the obtrusive blaring horn of a vehicle. I had to bite down my smile and turn slowly before I faced the origins of the sound.

 _Of course, you annoying brats,_ I thought as I saw them, the gaggle of boys behind the wheel and on the bed of a large, faded brown and white Ford pickup from heavens knows what century.

Charlie was covering his ears and grinning as the men whooped, whistled, and hollered when they saw me. The person blaring the horn didn’t pause even as I started running toward them.

Then I tripped.

That’s when the blaring stopped, but it soon became replaced with roaring laughter. I heard Quil distinctly rumble, “the Charlie genes are kicking in,” before two sets of hands helped me up from the floor. One was my father’s, and the other pair of nearly simmering warm fingers belonged to the driver, who stepped back to assess me.

“Minor damage,” he said, “You think we might have to return it, Charlie?” At this, I sent a not too effective glare at the enormous, long-haired sixteen-year-old shaking his head pitifully at me. My best friend Jacob Black.

Charlie stood back too, placing his hands on his hips, but unlike Jacob, he couldn’t keep his sincerity and excitement from taking over the same soft brown eyes I have. His curly brown hair is one aspect of him I wished I had inherited too. He was about six inches smaller than the significantly younger, six-foot-seven boy beside him.

“Dust her off. She’ll be good as new. Come here, Bells,” he said. He extended his arms, and I scoffed before throwing myself into his hug.

When I pulled away, Jacob and I stared at each other with similar bored, disaffected expressions. It lasted for all of five seconds before his grin cracked first. The two of us bumped fists and smushed into a hug. I breathed in the smell of red cedar and earth, a combination that no one back in Phoenix seemed to master.

“Lookin’ good, Bella!” called another boy as big and as tan as Jacob. Quil Ateara was nearly unrecognizable from last year when he was five foot nine and lanky. He was one of Jacob’s high school friends and had an obvious like for teasing. His hair was a shaggy mess nearly covering his eyes. “Were you trying to impress me?”

Beside him, Embry Call was another sixteen-year-old still a fair bit larger than my father. He slapped the boy's chest, smirking. “This was her trying to avoid you. She thought no one would recognize her, huh Bella?”

I peered down at my shirt and jeans, thinking I looked about as normal as I usually did, maybe even underdressed considering the weather, but I guess my shirt was a little nicer than my clothing at Charlie’s house. My house.

The last of the gargantuan boys to speak was Paul Lahote, who had trimmed his long hair to his shoulders from when I had last seen him. He patted the space next to him on the rim of the truck’s cargo bed. “Hey, Bella. You can sit up here if Jacob’s too-fat bottom doesn’t leave you any space.” Predictably, the boy in question replied with a curse and a snarl. Together, the four teens made an usual pack. Everyone in Forks knew them to be part of the La Push region, the village holding two Native American reservations now, one of which was the Aki Tribe, Jacob’s people. I knew them as my friends.

Charlie took my carry-on and guided me towards the truck, warning the boys that the hour-long drive back would be rainy and cold. Like school children, they monkeyed around, swatting and teasing each other about their supposed but non-existent crushes on me, and then as soon as the car came in contact with the rain, they hooted and howled like chimps as the droplets came crashing onto their heads. Charlie grimaced apologetically, while I could do nothing but grin. He rubbed my arms up and down as if we didn’t have a roof over our heads to protect us from the cold.

Throughout the drive, I leaned on Jacob and nabbed the comforting heat from his helpful arm. He didn’t mind. His favorite thing was pretending that my hair smelled like a wet dog’s, sniffing really loudly for the added theatrics. I bit my retaliation down in front of Charlie. Jacob would sooo get what was coming to him, and he knew me well enough to expect it. In fact, Jacob knew me better than Charlie at this point in my life, which is to say that as far as best friends go he knew my likes, dislikes, my preferences for movies, meals, books. Relationships.

“You’re going to freak when I show you the project I’m working on, Bella,” he said. “Sorry, Charlie. Need to know bases only.”

“Whatever it is, no parties and no boys,” he replied

Jacob snickered quietly. He leaned down to whisper in my ear as best as he could while driving. “You heard that Bella? _No boys._ ”

“Jacob’s a boy.” I reminded him and my dad, who nodded with a content purse on his lips.

He said with all the sincerity I knew he kept regarding this topic, “Jacob’s a fine gentleman. He’d make a great boyfriend for you.”

“Ew, Dad!”

“Disgusting.”

Though the boys in the back couldn't possibly have heard us through the rain, their whistles and coos chimed in at too perfect a time. Dad looked out the rear window, wondering what had set them off this time, but all he could see was their blurry figures obfuscated by the weather.

When we arrived at Forks, the rain had become nothing but scattered drizzles. Quil, Embry, and Paul went off running into the woods, tossing “see you laters” at me and “thanks Chief Swan” at my dad before being taken by the trees around us. Dad lent me his windbreaker as I exited Jacob’s truck, but he stopped short of leading me into the house. 

“I rearranged the place when you told me you were, uh, planning to move here permanently,” he said, slowly, carefully.

“You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“I’m telling you because one of the legs to your bed snapped off,” he confessed. That explained the bashfulness. I knew he felt bad because one of the things I used to complain about the most before I decided to stay here was my bed.

Jacob came up beside me. We both leaned on the truck parked on the curb. “Don’t worry, Charlie. If you want, I can get it fixed up?”

“No, no, I was wondering if you could entertain her for a while so I can get things in order.”

We both gave each other a look. This was perfect, exactly what we needed right now. I wanted to make the fifteen-minute drive to La Push, but more than that, I wanted to chase after the boys who had run into the forest. I felt the excitement thrum in my chest, beat widely in my heart, so much so I was sure the person beside me could hear it.

Jacob said, “That’s a good idea. I’ll have her back by ten. Oh, and, we can show her the surprise too.”

Charlie shared a knowing smile with my best friend. He knew what this surprise was, obviously. 

“Alright, be careful. Roads are still wet.”

Jacob and I wouldn’t be taking the roads for long. The short drive ended somewhere along the U.S 101, the truck stopping far enough off the highway to pose no serious threat to other cars. He and I went off into the woods on foot, him silently trudging along and me cracking every twig in the vicinity of my sneakers. We didn’t head for trails or camps, or the La Push road that had to be nearby. Our journey would stop when Jacob knew it was time for it to do so.

When I was fourteen years old, I thought I would never come back to Forks ever again. I missed my mother, the sun, the big city, and the bustle of people at every corner. It makes you feel like you’re a part of something, and for a girl like me, someone who spends their time reading, cooking, and cleaning, feeling a part of something is important. At fourteen, I didn’t want to be anywhere that could remind me of how unspecial I am.

I remember it had been a particularly boring day when I ventured out into the woods by myself. I had everything a fourteen-year-old could need to survive out in the wilderness, minus the knowledge necessary to use any of it. I’d hiked myself into the darkness, the trees engulfing my frail body, becoming so dense that the few rays of golden, falling light that broke from the canopies seemed like godly signs to keep going further, and further. It didn’t occur to me that I was lost until I was tired and wanted to go home, but home had been swallowed by the sky-scraping trees and their thick trunks. 

I’d cried. I was angry at Mom and Charlie and myself for letting me go on this suicidal adventure, for bringing me to this quiet town that ate at the sun the way I did my last few crackers. I’d held onto my knees and sat under a single patch of light that I knew wouldn’t last when either the Forks weather or the nighttime came around. Tears glistened like jewels against my cold white hands, sliding down to the ground. I knew Charlie wouldn’t find me. I’d walked farther on this journey than any of the ones we’d been on together. 

I had all but signed my own death certificate when something approached me. Two big eyes. One long mouth. Great big teeth. It moved in the darkness like a ripple, like dark silk blowing in the wind. When it stepped out into the sun, I realized it was a wolf.

“ _Khr!_ Earth to Bella Swan, do you read me?” Jacob said, drop-kicking me away from my mental wanderings. 

“Oh, sorry.”

“No harm done. _Yet_.” He grinned, shoed me away, and cracked his fingers, giving himself an air of professionality. What a drama queen. “Now, stand back.”

I grinned too and did as I was told.

I watched Jacob Black shudder under the murky gray of the afternoon. He wasn’t cold. The snaking of protruding veins around his arms was from the effort it took him to ease himself to the forest floor. I’ve been told the hardest part is making sure you land on your front feet. The second hardest is doing it without tearing through your clothes.

“Um, shouldn’t you take off your —”

But Jacob exploded, or rather his outfit did, shredding into millions of little white and gray pieces like confetti. Not even the sneakers I bought him for Christmas last year were safe. The ground would be littered with his last good pair for a week, or at least until I felt guilty enough to return and clean it up. It didn’t help that when Jacob landed on the ground, his massive form scattered the debris into the air and surrounding woods. 

Standing before me was a brown wolf the same size as the midnight black beast I’d seen three years ago. It was about as big as a bear, shaking like a dog freshly out of a shower. It circled around me once it had regained its senses, and then it huffed and puffed proudly. Showing off. Jacob was Jacob no matter what form he took.

I crossed my arms. “You’re quicker than before. That’s bad news for your next set of tighty-withies.”

He let his tongue loll out the front of his mouth, pulling back his cheeks to reveal his teeth the size of my hand. His laugh. The foliage rustled around us, like the wind was joining in on the fun. Jacob circled once more, before crouching on his hind legs. That was my cue.

“Not too fast, okay?” I came closer, and he exhaled loudly. My legs gripped either side of his abdomen, close to his haunch. As soon as I felt safe enough, I said in retaliation for the truck ride, “Wow, someone smells like a wet dog.”

He shot into the woods.

I screeched, the echoes fading behind me long before I could properly hear them. It’s been two years since Jacob first changed, three since we met and became friends, and nothing about this has gotten easier. But it remains my single biggest masochistic pleasure to race through the trees, to hold onto Jacob’s back while I’m struggling to keep my eyes open, knowing that he’s cackling like a maniac on the inside.

Three years ago, a black wolf saved me from the darkness and brought me to the daylight. Or more specifically, left me on the road where Jacob's truck now idles. The strange being had no intention of letting me into his secret, but I was old enough to know the wolf had gone the same direction Jacob was heading in now. I’d followed. I’d followed and found a place that could shred away my mundaneness, make me unusual. 

Forks, Washington was the very definition of unusual.


	2. First Vision:Alice

##  _Alice_

Paths. 

There are so many. I like dancing upon them with my hands to the sky, twirling and spinning like a ballerina, the most graceful of _Giselles_. Sometimes, I do so without a care in the sun-deprived world, knowing that I’ll never get lost in the dark. Each step I take off of one path simply lands on another in the making. And in the blink of an eye, a path can change from the normal, paved, soft dirt under my feet to one made of shimmering, white, speckled opals. All it takes is a decision.

I decided on the Cullens the second I saw them. It had taken only one other being’s choice, that of the lovable Emmett, a giant heart among them. Some people’s paths fork like trees, into more and more branches. For others, paths are straight and rarely diverge, whether due to a disciplined life or a steadfast personality. Emmett’s is the latter. He made the choice to go on the hunt that would give me the opportunity to meet his family, thirty years into the future, thirty years from when I’d first opened my eyes. The vision never changed. Emmett’s paths are simple like that, always sure and always reliable. The rest was history.

I did have other options, other strangers, and other beings who would eventually make the choices necessary to lead to me, but I had already set my spirits on them. To meet the Cullen family remained my easiest choice.

Though, that choice would always tie me to my hardest one. 

Jasper Whitlock should have been as effortless a decision as the one made for the Cullens. My first vision had been of his eyes and his golden hair, the halo that shrouded his scarred face. He had given me a happy life free of pain. He had given me my name, Alice. Curled inside the hollow of an oak tree, I chose then. There was no question that I would find him. There was no question that I would love him too.

On the branching path to my happiness, there persisted two choices, one I could see and one that had remained a sprouting fork up ahead, shrouded in fog. Even as I danced straight, passing it, the detour returned again and again.

I never regretted prancing along the midnight path leading me to Jasper Whitlock. He is my soulmate because we decided so.

Yet, nothing apart from our useless graves are set in stone. 

I opened my eyes.

“The fork is back,” I said to Esme. My head lay on her lap. We rested on the terrace swing overlooking the forest, though neither of us were tired.

She caressed my head, slipped cold fingers across the black hair on my temple. “Are you afraid?”

“I don’t know if it’s something I’m meant to be afraid of.” I shifted my position to stare up at my surrogate mother’s worried golden eyes. Those were the only features we had in common. 

Her caramel hair tickled my cheek, soft like the ends of a make-up brush. “If the fog dissipates, are you prepared to make your decision?”

“It might never.”

She was more tormented than I was. “It might break your heart.” 

“You’re worrying too much again. I’ll be alright.”

“I pray you will.”

“It’s only another path.”

“And I hope it keeps us in it.”


	3. Open Sight:Bella

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {In which we see the Shape-Shifter lore has changed a fair bit.}

##  _Bella_

AS A FOURTEEN-YEAR-OLD, I WAS LED through a red, rickety, one-story house that belonged to my father’s best friend and confidant, Billy Black. An extremely, unforgettably warm hand rested on my shoulder and escorted me further in. Steering me like that until we stopped in front of Billy, resting at a kitchen table, one that overflowed with blinking, curious thirteen-year-olds. They all examined me as if I were a visiting alien who wore the skin of a shy, pale girl. They didn’t know why I’d been led there, but they knew I was there to stay. The figure beside me had said so.

 _“I made a mistake again,”_ he’d said, so full of remorse. _“Tell Emily I’m sorry.”_

Billy watched him, bringing his wheelchair closer. He said it was nothing he should feel bad about. He was friends with my father, and he would take care of it, make sure I understood the gravity of this new secret I kept.

_“It’s okay, Sam. You did the right thing this time. You saved her. Not hurt her.”_

♠️

“Sam!” I launched myself on the young man who descended the Black’s porch with his arms outstretched. His hair was shaved down, close to his head. It made him look older than nineteen, and it didn’t help that he had the face of a grownup, anchored by an unwavering calm. I was so happy to see it.

Jacob cautioned from behind me, “Do _not_ turn your back.” 

Kind, handsome, and always warm, Sam Uley pressed a protective hand onto my head, pushing it into his chest, as Jacob’s bare feet crunched speedily on the front lawn grass. He laughed heartily when Billy’s low, exasperated _“Not again, boy!”_ filtered out through their screen door.

I stepped back gradually and wedged my fingers into my back pockets. “Guess who’s going to be Emily’s sous chef. Permanently.”

He smiled like a grandfather, which is to say that most of the lines appeared in his crinkling eyes. “She’ll be happy to know that. She missed you a lot. We all did.”

“Enough to make me an honorary member?” I asked hopefully.

He chuckled. “I think you’ve been an honorary member for a while. You’re a wolf-girl.”

" _Wolf-girl?_ I think I need a different nickname. Besides, that's Em's, and she might get jealous.”

“I might get jealous of you. The two of you have more to talk about than we do. Especially nowadays,” he grew as quiet as our surroundings. I drew my brows together.

“Is something wrong with the pack, Sam?”

“The same thing that’s always been. We exist.”

His existence didn't sound like a bad thing to me. "No, really."

"That, and there are more of us."

This was certainly news. I'd grown up with Sam and his boys. The idea that there might be additional members on the way didn't put me out but make me wonder. How would more fever-ridden teens affect him, Jacob, and the others? I knew that, as a wolf, Sam could handle them—not because he was bigger or stronger than the rest, but because he and the boys shared a strange familial trust that made them work in sync. Wild wolves did not have hierarchies despite popular belief. Humans, on the other hand, gravitated towards leaders. And that worried me. Sam was still very young.

"Hm," was all I could say. This new member, or members, would have it tough. It was far too late for an introduction to Shifting 101. The others had started early. Whoever was up next was behind by three years. “Who is it?”

“I can’t tell you that. I’m bound to not reveal any—”

“—Yes, I forgot, and sorry I asked. I’ve had the sermon three times now, thanks. I’ll know if he tells Billy or accidentally outs himself as you did in the forest,” I said matter of factly. He shook his head with a grin, but it didn't last long. I had far too much knowledge of what they could or couldn't do once their ancestors had cast a vote in the pack. He _physically_ could not tell me. Sam wanted to though. We both sobered. I stared at our feet, using the distance between my boots and his sandals to plot out a question in my head. “Did I move at a bad time?”

He put his hands on my shoulders. “No. Emily needs a normal person around her. Sometimes, I can’t be with her fully while I’m struggling to make sense of all this, and I’ve been struggling to make sense of it for three years. She’s had to bear the brunt of that.”

I knew it well. It was part of the reason the Great Black Beast slipped up the day he found me. His head was muddled with thoughts of the girl who knew his secret, the one girl who came before me. Emily Young. 

“When will I get to see her?” I asked.

“Soon. We’re getting the home set up before our wedding. You’ll be invited, of course.”

“I better be. I already picked out my tux.”

“You’re ahead of me then. Emily’s thinking of renting one from a strip club in case I need to get somewhere fast.”

“Are you sure it’s just for that reason!?” howled Quil, emerging with a now fully dressed Jacob, from the gravel driveway that snaked around the back of the property. He surfed on top of a moving truck, standing on the single greatest embodiment of _retro_ that I ever laid eyes upon. 

Jacob honked the horn, and I jogged lightly to reach him. He rolled down the window and stuck his arm out. “Chevy pickup, 1953. They don’t make them like they used to.”

It was faded red, a bulbous cap covering the loud, roaring engine. The frame over the wheels spoke of an era long gone from Forks. There was nothing on the bed apart from a red bow that Quil must have kicked off from the truck’s head. “Is this my surprise?”

“Do you like it?”

I did. It had far more character than any truck or car I’d imagined myself in. It brought me a genuine spike of excitement to lay my hands on its side, feel where some of the paint had chipped off from old age. Charlie really made an effort to understand me this time around. 

“I love it, Jake.”

“Welcome home, Bella.”

Jacob invited me into his house before the afternoon settled completely. His father, Billy Black, hugged me upon entering the kitchen, making sure to inform me of what had transpired since my departure last winter, treating me no differently from his family. I passed by Jacob’s room, and then the ones that had belonged to his siblings. Pictures of his late mother decorated the walls, and among them was one of me and Jacob before either of us considered each other friends. This was my home as much as his.

We spent the day talking. Embry and Quil recounted their first shifts to me with dramatizations. I'd caught only their fevers before I left, but missed their transformations, I was so excited to see what they looked like, even as they described themselves to me in detail. Paul explained that nothing had occurred as they’d said, which I suspected, but both boys impeded him from telling his version of events, which apparently involved lots of crying. Before long, the sun had set. Billy asked us to come out front. He’d started a campfire with Sam’s assistance, and someone new was in attendance.

“Old Quil? I haven't seen him in two years,” I said, pausing on the porch awed. Jacob stopped to nod at my wonderment.

“He's been teaching Jared how to archive our history. That's why both of them haven't been around Sam much."

"That's right! I haven't seen Jared."

"He'll come back soon." Jacob gave me a meaningful look. "This morning, Quil says his grandfather felt like telling a story.”

Quil Ateara III sat hunched in a folding chair alongside Billy. His eighty years of age had drawn his bronze cheeks down but not erased the lines of happiness around his eyes and mouth. He grinned now. Glad to see us all, greeting us with pats and caresses. He took the time necessary to wait for our bodies to circle around him, around the warmth emanating from the fire.

“There will be a full moon soon,” he joked. The boys snickered and laughed, peering up at the sky, and I did too. Old Quil simply smiled and reached for Sam’s hand in the dark, who extended it and gently wrapped his fingers around the elder's palm. “But you don’t need that, son. None of you will. Nothing can compel you but the trust you have in each other. And I know you’re all confused. I was too. You’ve heard the story the same way I did, and like me, you hoped none of it was true until it was too late.” He closed his eyes. “For that, I am always regretful.”

Sam squeezed his hand, “It’s not your fault.”

“No, it’s not our fault.” He watched us again. The air around me had been sucked of all warmth when he opened his eyes. I could see and feel that an anger was infecting him and all the others. He said, “it’s _theirs_. If you want something to blame, blame the creatures who feast on the weak and the lonely, the young and the old, and who kill for the thrill as well as the thirst.”

I dipped my head. Somewhere pinned on that list, I hung blue and dead. Judging from this fierce start, Old Quil had one thing in mind.

He leaned in. “Do you remember how your gift came to exist?”

 _A thing attacked half a village._ I thought to myself. _One boy survived by masking with the scent of the dead. The first shifters, the Great Taha Aki and his warriors, exchanged their spirit with a wolf to seek vengeance. And the rest was history._

The boys nodded like they were young, curious thirteen-year-olds again. Old Quil was content with what he saw. 

“Then let me amend for you a couple of things, now that you’re older. For the recently initiated—” he looked at Quil and Embry “—let me strip you of your rose-colored glasses quickly. As much as I want to tell you that our people are somehow different from other humans, that our blood came from warriors, legends, and spirit travelers, things that make rich tourists write tales about us, the reality is much more dark and earthly. You share your gifts with abominations in this world. You are what you are because many long years ago, our ancestors traded their humanity to save the things they loved. There were no mythical spirits exchanged with animals on the day our bloodline gained their abilities. The gifting of knowledge happened between human to twisted human, and the catalyst was the day two ungodly beings descended upon our shore to satiate their thirsts."

I raised my eyes. I knew this story. At least, I thought I knew.

Old Quil wiped a hand under his eye, pulling sweat. " _She_ arrived on behalf of her mate. There was no need for secrecy to pick them off one by one. The tribe was small, and she’d be done quickly. So she stepped into the sun with her head held high, prideful, casting her heavenly light and beauty over the tribe, who watched...entranced. It was then that she attacked.

“Her skin was made of something stronger than their spears. Their knives chipped and broke on her chest and her legs. Their hands couldn’t reach her. She would be there and gone in a wink of her dark red eyes, tearing through them with her teeth. And their blood coated her skin so evenly she was half red and half white at all times. She looked back to seek someone, something's, approval, but it never came. She committed her atrocities alone. Quickly, and yet still so slowly. What had remained of the small village when she left was buried under rubble. But there _had_ been remains, one small boy, who knew that the ruins were only one half of the tribe. 

“He lay still for three days, and then he ran. He ran until his heels tore. He ran until he collapsed before the warriors and the Chief who were just a day from reaching their village. He fell before their knees, bloody and hungry and angry. He told the tribesmen of how he’d witnessed the woman stain the ground in red. She walked over the rubble of his home, came so close that the chilling, glacial skin of her ankle touched his barefoot, picked out her sister who breathed raggedly, and crushed her throat unhurriedly. She called for someone, but that someone wouldn’t come. So irate, she grabbed his dead brothers one by one and skinned them with her delicate hands, tossing their uneven bits of meager pelt over her shoulder as she left. She would use them how we use leather.”

Old Quil stopped. He cast his fury-filled gaze into the fire.

Jacob held my hand. I shook, but I wasn’t scared. Like him and the rest of the boys in the circle, I was raging inside. They had to be furious because I was too—because I could see my best friend torn to shreds from the inside out, his skin worn by a thing that was a mere imitation of a human. I could feel the cold wrap around my neck, pressing my throat closed so that the only thing ripping through my mouth would be a pained, wet rasp. I was imagining my friends, _my boys_ , killed and skinned.

I heard a variation of this story before, but it was more painful knowing what came before the boy fled. 

“The Cold Ones,” Old Quil continued, “That’s what the child called them. At the time, your ancestor and Elder Chief, Taha Aki, had been hunting another creature. A human who could turn into a half-beast, a wolf-man.” 

I stilled. This...this was different. Too different. Old Quil never mentioned anything remotely similar when I’d been younger. Jacob and I shared a look of confusion. Sam tensed, back straightening. He squeezed the elder’s hand to interrupt. “Taha Aki was not the first one?”

Old Quil shook his head, not in dissent, but in a quick jerk that told Sam he simply didn’t understand. “Taha Aki and you are something different from this hellspawn. The human that they hunted? They had him. He was subdued and bound, and the plan was to kill him before the full-moon set in and before he became more than just a man. But with the knowledge that the Cold Ones existed, Taha Aki made a choice that would mar your futures forever, but there was nothing else he could have done. When the man who they kept prisoner awoke, they asked him if he knew of the Cold Ones. The human laughed. Of course, he knew. All Children of the Moon knew who their enemies were."

"Children of the Moon?" Sam asked.

"Lycanthropes."

"You're serious..."

He didn't answer. "All Children of the Moon know who their enemies are because they fight for the same food. That day, the man cynically wished them good luck. No human had the power to destroy a Cold One. They were parasites. If you cut off their limbs, they could still move. If their heads were severed from their bodies, they would not die. Only the strength, the bite, and the venom of a Child of the Moon could stop a Cold One. There would be no one to rival the woman and the hidden mate who had washed up from the sea. No one except him, and...them, if they wanted to become like him. All it took was a bite.

“Taha Aki considered and very nearly accepted. Fortunately, the remaining half of his tribe refused. Among them, his wife. She traveled with them as a medicine woman, and she told him how venom could be used as an antidote. Diluted venom could save lives. In the night, just before the full moon rose, they lured a wolf from the forest and forced the wolf-man to bite its neck before they killed him. For three days, they fed the animal the remains of the dead Child of the Moon, and for three days, it lived and thrived. On the fourth, Taha Aki did not speak to the wolf or take its form, the way I would have said he did to spare you. He sacrificed it. Its blood had become an antidote. His wife took a knife and cut the wrists of the men and her husband. She made sure the blood of the wolf tainted their own and waited by their sides as their fevers took them.” Old Quil swallowed. “And waited. And kept waiting."

Jacob and I stared at the prominent veins on his wrists. The boys were so quiet. I felt like my breathing was the harshest sound in the air.

“On the fifth day, the first shape-shifters were born.”

♠️

“Thanks for taking me home,” I said to Jacob. The sky above us was cloudy, and the moon was a crescent. It was on a day like this that Jacob experienced his very first shift, after five days of an agonizing fever. I watched him scale down from my new truck. He wouldn't need it to get home. “And I’m really sorry that I'm leaving you with your thoughts.”

My best friend wrapped his arms around me, and we clung tightly to each other like toddlers, smooshing our cheeks against each other’s bodies. Mine against his chest and his against my head. “Are you scared of me?” he asked.

“No,” I squeaked, and he laughed.

“Do you at the very least believe they exist?”

“The Cold Ones or the Children of the Moon?”

“Both.” He said seriously.

“I think so.” I shrugged, trying to keep his mood light, but it wasn’t working. “It’s hard when I haven’t seen them.”

“You don’t want to see them, Bella. You’re the thing they want to eat. Just take my existence as proof that they do.” His head fell to the ground. “I get scared thinking about losing my family, you, like I lost my mom in the car crash. All mangled up in a casket that we weren’t allowed to open. I don’t want you ending up like that because of me.” 

I'd always thought that Jacob was too young to remember his mother’s death. He’d been a happy kid, laid back, calm, and easy. His older sisters had fled from La Push because the pain from being in a suddenly motherless home was too much. To be perfectly honest, I think I’m the worst person to have entered his life. An accident-prone, clumsy, cursed girl like me is not the person you bet your chips on.

“I’m sorry,” I said, and he lifted his head and waved me off. 

“Just thinking too much. It kind of sucks that I'm not some spiritual power ranger like we thought when we were kids. Whatever. This changes virtually nothing. We're no closer to figuring out how to end it or how those—" He stopped talking abruptly. I tilted my head, hyper-aware of his silence, but I didn't press him as he kicked the ground hard. "Anyway. Call me tomorrow if the truck malfunctions so I can pick you up, okay. It’s our first day of school on the reservation, and I’d like _not_ for you to get lost.”

“No problem. Bye-bye, Jake.”

“C-ya.”

When I entered the walls of my new permanent home, Old Quil’s story began playing vividly in my head. I got lost in imagining this new creature added into the ancient legends, trying to rework what I’d known as a fourteen-year-old with what I knew now. A chill crawled up my pant leg, like fingers tapping up my spine and the back of my head. I stopped myself before imagining my skin being pulled off of my body by a cold, stony hand. 

I didn't care if Jacob's abilities came from that _Child of the Moon_. If the Cold Ones did exist, I hated them, and they needed to be eradicated.

“Ouch!” said Charlie as I opened the door to my bedroom. 

“Dad?”

Charlie’s head jerked up from the floor of my room, where multiple pieces of paper were strewn alongside planks of wood and steel frames. He lowered the hammer in his hand before he hurt himself again and wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. He didn’t move from his kneeling position on the ground. “You’re back early!”

“It’s...past ten now.”

“You’re late,” he amended. “But uh, that’s okay.”

“Is this my bed?” I said and pointed to the partially constructed frame around him, trying to contain the smile wiggling out of me.

He lifted a limping piece of paper. “The...instructions are in Swedish, I think.”

I bent down next to him, locating the nearest sheet of text and bringing it up to eye-level. Oh yes, that was definitely not English.

“How about I take the couch for today, yeah? I don’t want to be sleep-deprived on my first day of school on the reservation.” I got up and stole the instructions out of Charlie’s hand, organizing the sheets by numerical order. About the only thing understandable on the page was the single digits on the edges. _Those_ and some helpful pictures that would come in handy. Maybe I would crack open the internet and search for a translation guide later.

Charlie sighed.

“Hey, it’s fine, Dad. We can get it done together right now if you want?”

“It’s not that, Bells." He stood and wiped his forehead with a noticeable bit of force. "Some nosy busybody at the place we use the fax machine must have caught sight of your grades. The next thing I knew I was notified of enrollment that I hadn’t even signed for. Turns out, I don’t have a say where you go to school as long as you’re zoned to the nearest one.”

Wait.

"Are you saying what I think you’re saying? I’m not going to school on the reservation?” 

“I’m sorry,” he said, remorseful. Angry at himself _and_ remorseful.

I tried to stop myself from frowning before he felt even more guilty, biting my lip.

“Tomorrow is your first day at Forks High School.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I'm so happy about the attention this received. I am a queer author (she/her), so I write what I personally enjoy to read which is wlw. If you like my writing and are interested in another story about a gay girl falling in love with heavenly beautiful beings, I have a free, original work called Wink set in 1926. It's far too early for promotion, but once I have enough chapters, I'll link to my Wattpad at the bottom of Daybreak sporadically.


	4. Open Sight:Alice

##  _Alice_

“ _Rose_ , make up your mind,” I moaned, petulant and loud, my feet bursting in a series of impatient taps against the floor. Today was far too interesting for indecision, too _new_ against the normal stagnation of our lives. Because today, we returned to acting out one of our secret, teensy-tiny, little plays, which made no one but me very, very happy. 

“I _don’t know_ what you’re talking about, Alice. Stop it or you’re going to break Esme’s kitchen tiles.” Rosalie wedged a single pencil into her sleek black bag, using her index and thumb with the utmost precision, before returning to her nail lacquer on the glass tabletop. Unlike me, she didn’t enjoy lugging around a pack solely to appease the inquiring human mind. And while I knew that she could use her nail to file the single writing utensil in her bag if it broke, I still thought she could try a little harder.

“You’re going to make us late by trying to decide on whether you’re driving the convertible or the Mercedes. It’s annoying. Pick one now,” I warned. In my head, Rosalie persisted in her lazy evaluation of her choices, but this time she was smiling mischievously, drumming on her chin with mock contemplation. “Oh, don’t even think about it. Please, just take the convertible. It matches your nails.”

Rosalie tilted her head and pursed her lips in approval. Her blonde hair suited her pleased golden-amber eyes, those that glimmered far brighter now that I’d made the suggestion. And just like that, the twisting future was rescued, the Rosalie in my cloudy head got in the red convertible.

“Why do you want to be there so early?” she asked, sourly. That’s how Rose tended to say everything.

“Well,” I chirped, placing my hands eagerly together. “For the first time since Fork High School's founding, Edward won’t be here to tell us what everyone is thinking.”

I’m pretty sure I’d said this with a level of enthusiasm, but Rosalie reciprocated by rolling her eyes. “Yes, thank you for that nightmarish reminder. I don’t understand why he _of all people_ had to leave with Jasper to Siberia for half a year, leaving us in the dark! What if this is the year someone suspects?”

I felt myself grow defensive. I was the one to suggest Edward impart on that journey with him. It’s not as though I didn’t want my brother and Jasper by my side. My little family felt incomplete without them. “Edward has a better handle on his thirst than you or me. He’s second to Carlisle. If anyone can teach him control, it’s him. Would you have had our father go and leave us instead?”

Rosalie stood just as Esme came through the door to stop us from bickering. We both kissed her in passing. It was time to go, but Rosalie continued our conversation as we sped downstairs, our bodies a blur to the human eye. The garage was but a blink away from us. “No. Jasper should have gone by himself. He’s the one with the problem, not us.”

I stopped and observed joylessly as she entered the convertible the way I’d predicted. That was so unfair of her. Jasper was trying more than any of us to fit into the play we’d orchestrated for ourselves. He did so because it was the right thing to do. We were among the few creatures that understood the immortality of our kind’s favorite pastime, and Jasper was beginning to understand, too, without my reminder. His willingness to be apart from me proved that.

“Hi, Emmett,” I said glumly. He hadn’t stepped into the garage yet, but I knew he could hear me. He’d take the Jeep and drive himself to school, today. “Tell Rosalie to lighten up when you’re petting each other at school today.”

“Get in, Alice!” she yelled.

The drive to Forks High School didn’t leave any impression on me. It went by fast, the roads an elongated smudge of snow white, brown, and gray as Rosalie raced through the ice-slicked lanes. Usually, I enjoyed the hair-raising speed, but the reminder that Jasper was miles away, trying his hardest to be the man I’d seen in my vision years ago made my unmoving heart feel something akin to distress.

I didn’t want to believe that I was the one and only pillar standing between a Jasper sinking into a pool of rich red sludge and a Jasper lighting the world with his rarely seen smile. I don’t like walking on narrow roads. I was not afraid of tightropes; my legs were lithe and dexterous, but walking on Jasper’s wireline, while knowing that the consequence of falling was more than mere physical pain, was enough to make me stall in the sky. _Could_ I fall off and leave him to fend for himself? No. No, I didn’t want Jasper to bear his burden alone, but I also didn’t want to be the foremost reason for his decision to be _good._

“He’ll be fine,” Rosalie sighed. I lifted a surprised eyebrow, to which she frowned. I hadn’t seen her regret. I’d stopped looking for that in her future many years ago. 

I appreciated her, and finally relaxed, turning my face to the passenger window. My eyes fell on her side-view mirror, catching sight of my eternal mask. My black hair spiked unnaturally, as unnaturally as everything else about me, cut short enough that if I wasn’t so small and unmistakably feminine, I might be taken for a human boy. “I know. I see his choices, but nothing’s ever one hundred percent certain.” 

His future was a swinging pendulum at this moment, like Rosalie’s had been earlier. He had two choices. Hunt and kill the gray wolf Edward knew was too far away and too small to satiate his thirst or stalk the bulky human collecting twigs in the snowy woods. I could see how Edward, tall, lean, and serious, red-brown hair dusted with snow, loomed over him with his golden eyes narrowed, sifting through his thoughts and determining his choice before even I could. He wouldn’t let Jasper make the wrong decision, and for that, I would forever gladly owe him.

“By the way, Carlisle said that even if we’re down a mind reader, we have to be on our best behavior. _No mingling_ , Alice. No going up to people you find interesting just because Edward isn't here to stop you. Those are the rules.” Rosalie cruised to an expert stop, parking next to the space Emmett would cut-off someone for later. Who was there to mingle with? I thought. The teachers were the only ones who could strike up a fairly normal conversation. Most people, like those who stared at us as we walked through Forks High School’s parking lot, either treated us like untouchable celebrities or genuine freakshows. It varied by gender, age, and sexual preference. Edward also mentioned once that our favorability decreases exponentially on test days.

“I’ll see you at lunch hour,” she finished, a concerned twitch in her brow. She bumped past me lightly when I lingered too long at the entrance of Forks High’s red brick building. 

The sky above me promised rain later, and in truth, there would be an end to the snow that had graced us today. I pouted as my hand gripped the door handles. Sometimes, I wished there was more sun in my world.

☀

“Plié. Jump! Again. Start at plié. Hips even. Lauren, place your feet closer together,” Madam Jareau worked her way down the line of women organized by descending height. In one hand, she held a ribbon wand that she used solely to entertain herself. Her brown, coiled hair was up in a tight bun, which meant she was in a good mood. Later today, her new boyfriend would lay kisses on her delicate, slender, and dark neck in a way I’d never be capable of doing to a human.

_Lauren is going to fall._

Lauren Mallory was the second shortest person in the class, and that wasn’t very significant because I was eight inches shorter than her at four foot ten. Her posture was typically unsatisfactory because she had a habit of rebelliously choosing to do the opposite of what she was told. I could already see her white fists bunch up, the telltale sign of her embarrassment and indignation. This would be the first day of Intermediate Ballet, our required second elective. It would be her _first_ time taking an intermediate course. 

There would be a barre to aid her tomorrow, but not today. We were lined up like this to sync our movements, long past the point of learning how to adjust our stance. Truthfully, I’d been helping the girl this far, making suggestions under my breath, pretending they were for my own sake but knowing that she could hear them. I wondered, should I catch her this time? Or don’t catch her. Fall with her? 

Madam Jareau would ask us to jump soon. 

Lauren grumbled. The thing is, the girl had potential. Her movements were fluid. Her landings were impressive. Edward once said she spent a great deal of time obsessing over her looks, more than Rosalie, but the other half of her time was here in this studio. I could tell she liked being here by the way she retained all the terminology that had taken me two of her lifetimes to remember. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she had unearthly abilities.

But. Her. Temper.

She was irate now that our teacher had passed the line a second time and given her a look. 

_Catch her? Don’t catch her?_

Neither.

I stared at her leg. My hand reached out and pinched the tights stuck to her body. I made sure not to touch her skin as I pulled her leg in more, measuring my strength so I wouldn’t accidentally pull so tightly I snapped her hip.

“Ready, sauté!”

Lauren landed perfectly, and she was so very proud of herself. I was too, even as she harrumphed arrogantly, smiling when she had discovered her posture naturally righted itself. Silly, I know, but I was happy to watch her. Seeing humans smile was the closest thing to rays of light that I’d ever get.

The bell rang soon enough. The girls ran out of the room, none stopping to speak to me. They were always curious though, daring each other to talk to me before class ended. It was better if they didn't, though I appreciated the interest. As the bell stopped ringing, I placed my shoes in my bag and began to leave, tracing the steps I'd learned today on my way out. But then, I stopped, and Madam Jareau spoke a half a second _after_ I had.

“Alice, come here.”

She was by the small desk pushed into the farthest corner of the studio. I walked to her, and she admired the steps I took. I knew what she would say. I knew what I would say back.

“You should be in the advanced course. No, you should be scouted. In college. In a program. Not here,” she began. “You know, I have some friends in a traveling company of ballerinas. I’ve told them about you.”

I lowered my eyes for two reasons, one to hide how badly I wished to take her favor, and two because if I looked at her long enough, she would feel uneasy. Her subconscious, persistent, and ancient prey instincts would take over. I said to her, “I’m not really good in crowds. For so many reasons...” 

She crossed her arms and leaned on her desk. “Alice, you are a sprite, a fairy. And fairies tend to hide from people. But _you_ shouldn’t. Stagefright will go away after a couple of performances. I promise you. Once you finish my course, I'll talk to Anya from the advanced class and vouch for your talents. She is constantly searching for a new inspiring pupil. Please, reconsider the offer I made you last year.”

Her eyes were filled with hopes and high spirits. But, what was there to think about? If I danced in a room with strangers, I would dazzle and awe, enchant and mesmerize. And let's say I did do all those things. Let's say that in the next second my fellow ballerinas bled while they performed, suffered an injury on stage, or experienced the normal scrapes from wearing their bodies for the sake of the dance. If that happened, I would do nothing but strike fear in everyone's hearts. I would sink my teeth into each supple body around me, and I'd leave such a lasting, permanent impression.

I was no more than a vampire. I was not stronger than my urges.

I pulled out the stock response. The same one I gave her last year.

“I’ll consider it, ” I said and left.

Emmett found me in the halls afterward. He placed a behemoth hand on my head and steered me around. The first thing I noticed was his grinding, pensive jaw, devoid of the usual laid back smile he wore. I walked backward effortlessly as he spoke. “Everyone is being weird. Even I’m starting to get worried.”

“What do you mean?” I said, watching him place a thick finger on his deep dark brown hair and scratch. It was a habit. We didn't feel itchiness.

“They’re whispering about a new girl.”

“A freshman?”

“Nah, a junior. Isabella Swan,” he murmured. “I thought you might have seen something. Guess not, hm? One new mind we don’t know anything about.”

"It should be fine. I'm not getting anything. One new girl isn't going to rock the boat."

"I heard she's the Police Chief's daughter, and that she's pretty. Though, you know that half the guys here think anything that walks and isn't from Forks is pretty."

That made me curious. I hadn’t heard anything in my classes, but then again, most who spoke to me were wayward souls, ostracized teens that gravitated to my artsy unusualness. Or other times, I was paired with teens in my fashion courses who were noticeably neurodivergent, who loved to talk about fashion and colors as much as I did, but were usually kept out of the loop due to no fault of their own. Isabella Swan would not have been someone I heard of without the presence of my mind-reader brother.

Emmett’s worry lasted about as long as it took him to see Rosalie's ethereal beauty standing out from Forks High’s dull-gray cafeteria. He kissed her, and together, they picked out the meal they would pretend to consume today.

As I lined up for food behind them, I finally understood how it must feel to be my always-lonely sibling Edward. Though Jasper and I did not once share a kiss in front of him, there was that unspoken link between us that denoted our existence as a "couple." To be around pairs must have invoked in him some sense of solitude. It did for me. Emmett Cullen and Rosalie Hale adored each other in both non-physical and physical ways, pretending to feed one another, touching their chins, nipping their ears, and acting as though only they existed in the universe. I felt pushed off as they went on ahead to the table we usually occupied. 

“ _They_ are Forks’ very own celebrities, minus two,” someone whispered. My ears picked up on the mystique in Jessica Stanley’s voice. “The one on the right is Emmett Cullen, he’s been asked to join every sports team in school but denied them all. Guess he thinks he’s too good for small-time teams. The scarily gorgeous model beside him is his girlfriend, who lives with them by the way, Rosalie Hale. She’s a _senior_. Usually, Rosalie’s twin brother Jasper is with them, but both he and Edward are away at some fancy Alaskan boarding school and won’t be back until March.”

I kept walking towards our table, paying no mind to Jessica Stanley and the future version of herself, who would trip over many words to talk to her crush, generically popular Mike Newton. Lucky for me, the seat across from Rosalie and Emmett was empty with Edward gone. It was as far away from their secret (yet not so secret to me) displays of affection as possible. Jessica’s voice went even softer now that I was closer, not yet seated. She didn’t know that the cafeteria was too quiet to protect her from my heightened sense of hearing.

“That’s Alice Cullen. She’s super pretty but weird. Usually, she’s joined at the hip with Jasper Hale.” Jessica paused. “Are you paying attention, Bella?”

A sweet, but bored voice said, “Oh, sorry. I’m sleepy. I sort of spent the whole night building my own bed.”

I couldn’t prevent the laugh that escaped like a gust from my throat. I looked up to finally catch a glimpse of the new girl, expecting to see another sleepy Forks teen. Ruffled bed head, winter clothes in the summer, and yawning galore —

I gasped.

My visions do not shroud my normal sight, not ever, but all I could see then was extensive pitch-black darkness. The light was stolen from the room, taken from my surroundings until all I could see was my path to Jasper and the forked trail that sprung up again, this time so near the clouds of fog engulfed and circled my body. They licked at my feet and my hips, spun me away from my straight course up ahead, and repositioned my figure to face The Other Choice head-on.

_Ready, Alice? Jump._

The fog dissolved and in its place was a technicolor future full of falling. Falling sun rays. Falling winter snow. Falling autumn leaves. Falling happy girls, who were falling in love. Pages of our life flicked and ticked by, like the spinning reels of the very first moving pictures I ever saw. They spun until they chose an image of the meadow that belonged to my brother, and of a girl as pale as the moon, reaching up into the sky, laughing when she caught my hands trying to steal her light. My legs locked in place, pillars of alabaster carved into the cafeteria floor.

The tray in my hand clattered to the ground.

“You.”


	5. Another Phenomenon:Bella

##  _Bella_

WHEN I’D OPENED MY EYES this morning _,_ I had nearly floated drowsily back to my fog-filled dreamland. 

It had taken me all night to build my own bed, to wipe my mind of the smudge that was the bad news I’d received yesterday. Every scrape, bump, and accidental splinter that came from arming the spiraling wooden posts and white-net canopy of my bed forcefully erased the added stress from knowing where I was going today. Unfortunately, the repression didn’t last into the morning. The sky outside my window had foregone the opaque dull-gray I was familiar with and found a blinding, foggy white. I’d rushed out of my bed to discover the reason why.

“Great. Snow. In summer.”

Granted it was late summer, heading into September, but that fact hadn’t stopped me from cursing whatever cold spell had forced Charlie to wake up early and rig my tires with snow chains. He’d left instructions and a map with directions to my new school, though both of us knew that getting to Forks wouldn’t be a problem. The problem would be mustering the will to do so.

I’d arrived five minutes late on purpose. No one would fault the new girl, and it wasn’t as if the first day of school was imperative to my learning experience. It would be one needless day of introductions galore. Mine. Because in Forks, outside of La Push, I was unknown.

At least, I thought I was as my boots scraped the mat in front of the school’s entrance. The first person to greet me had been Eric Yorkie, a boy with mischievous, mono-lidded eyes and a perpetual smile who described himself as a walking and talking information center. He was monitoring the halls for stragglers when he saw me and took me by the hand. It had taken heroic levels of summoned bravery not to pretend as though I was lost, as in the wrong school lost, though I doubted it would have worked. Eric had been _expecting me._ He was familiar with all of the roster changes on account of his volunteer position in the registrar’s office. He could tell me my grade point average and whether I was failing a class before anyone else could. Or so he bragged.

Eric had introduced me to my entire first hour, English, which we shared. That’s where I discovered that people knew who I was. They knew I was here. Maybe even knew I’d show up to Forks High before I did. The realization threw me off so much I’d stumbled and stammered through all my introductions. I was at all times “Isabella wait-no Bella. Please call me Bella” instead of just “Bella.”

In Government, my theory had cemented itself. Unprompted, I’d been approached by two individuals who knew me, or at least my family, two energetic boys that stuck to my side like cactus stems as soon as I stepped into class. Tyler Crowley, a Senior, and Mike Newton, a cute and noticeably popular student who was eager to get to know me. 

“It’s a pleasure, Bella,” he’d said in class. 

Mike Newton proved to be really...enthusiastic. And while I appreciated a friendly soul, I was exhausted. The blonde, confident jock had kept me company up until he handed me over to my new Trigonometry neighbor, Jessica Stanley. She was a girl who had features similar to mine, though lighter hair, and who grabbed onto me with such speed and intrigue that she’d knocked Mike Newton out of the way. All I needed to do was nod and murmur a couple of words during our shared lectures for Jessica to divulge all the secrets she learned about Forks High in the two years she’d been here. 

What little energy I had received from the night before was drained by the time I was invited to sit in the cafeteria with Eric Yorkie, his friend Ben Cheney, and his other friend, the kind, quiet and studious Angela Weber. Angela had greeted me with a hello and a dip of her head, and I had reciprocated just as kind. It was like being invited into a haven, where I could be quiet on the pretext of not wanting to bother her.

That was where I found myself now, in peace, listening to Eric and Ben chatter quietly about a comic book I’d never read.

But then,

“Hey, if you didn’t bring a packed lunch, I can buy you something from the Senior’s corner. I get special dibs, though, technically, no Junior is allowed behind the red line.” Mike Newton’s arm slung over my shoulders and neck. He sat in the chair next to me, not greeting anyone else at the table. He smiled confidently as he pointed out the small line adjacent to the one most students queued in.

“Are we talking about sneaking into the Senior snack bar?” Jessica Stanley said. She, unbelievably, managed to wedge herself between Mike and me. Appreciated it, though I was beginning to think she was doing this on purpose. 

“Hey, Angela,” she said.

“Hey, Jessica, Mike. I see you’ve all met Bella.”

“Yep, we sit next to each other in Spanish and Trig. We’re partners, aren’t we, Bella?”

“I guess so—”

Mike said, “Lucky you. What’s your next class, Swan?”

“I have AP Biology II.”

“ _No way.”_ Jessica interrupted before Mike could speak up again, leaving him with his mouth open. “You must be smart, or it’s a requirement for athletics. Odds are you’re with a Cullen. Isn’t that right, Eric?”

Eric looked up at the ceiling for a second, as if the answer were written on the plaster tiles. He nodded. “Yep. Edward Cullen. Once he’s back. Angela and Mike have the same class, too.”

I looked away from an eager Mike and my untouched meal and up to Angela Weber. We smiled at each other. With her pinned-up hair and horned rim glasses, she was comforting to look at, a librarian who didn’t go out of their way to shush you for breathing too hard. She was working on assignments she’d received on her first day of school, and I wished this whole table would go back to being silent for her. I felt guilty for being the harbinger of noise and distraction. I could use the silence too, but Eric was asking how Jessica even knew about the “Cullen” courses and Mike was trying hard to change the subject by talking about, mainly, himself. My eyes were drooping.

“Oh, that’s right. You don’t know who the Cullens are!” Jessica said. She suddenly got very quiet. “ _They_ are Forks’ very own celebrities, minus two.” I peeked behind me, mostly to feign polite interest as Jessica described the shockingly good-looking trio dividing the stream of students trickling in through the cafeteria entrance. I looked back to my food when a blonde and her gargantuan boyfriend neared. It was none of my business who they were, as long as they didn’t make my life harder. Jessica said, “Are you paying attention, Bella?”

Oops.

I apologized. I really was tired from hammering away at my bedposts last night, but maybe that excuse wouldn’t suffice. In the interest of not hurting Jessica’s feelings, I peeked back again.

The sound of plastic hitting the cold, white tile reached my ear before her voice did.

“You.”

The girl who stared back at me existed as cosmically and mesmerically as the others. She was diminutive, pale, a lonely figurette of porcelain that _had_ to have been stolen away from a priceless set somewhere, completely out of place in this mundane high school cafeteria. She stood in a knee-length dress of what looked like layered blue-violet tulle, a strange, avant-garde outfit I don’t imagine anyone else could pull off. Her short, black hair refused to be confined flat to her head, instead choosing to branch out every which way. She watched me. She...kept watching me.

I felt embarrassment creep up my chest and wrap around my face. Her shameless staring was attracting unwanted attention. I frowned deeply.

“ _Alice,”_ I heard the blonde girl hiss loudly. Ro...salie. At least, I think that’s what I heard her name was. _Alice_ didn’t look at the person calling her name. She ran out. 

Jessica leaned in to say, “See, weird.” 

“Bella, do you know her?” Angela, like me, watched as the door to the cafeteria swung closed. 

“No. I’ve never seen her before. What’s her deal?” I tried not to appear uncomfortable as the other two people who had been sitting with Alice got up from their table and left shortly after I’d spoken. People were side-eyeing me, but I’d done nothing wrong. I was sure. What could I have done in this short amount of time?

Jessica picked at her salad and shrugged peppily. “Who knows? All the Cullens are a little strange. Dr. Carlisle’s and his wife’s true adopted kids are Edward, Emmett, and Alice. The other two just live with them, which _I_ think is weird.” She finished by mumbling how it was also probably illegal. I sensed that Jessica resented them a bit.

“Rosalie and Jasper Hale are foster kids,” clarified Angela. 

Eric took the opportunity to impart some information, scooching into the table conspiratorially. “Exactly. The Hales are not related by blood to the Cullens. However, they all stick together like glue. And like Jessica mentioned, Alice Cullen is down a brother and a boyfriend.”

“Maybe being single is making her crazy,” Jessica theorized.

“We don’t even know if Alice and Jasper are dating,” Angela said. “Maybe she feels sick today.”

I raised a brow and started picking at my food. Or maybe she’d mistaken me for someone? My appearance isn’t exactly unique. Half the girls in Forks had pale skin on account of the weather. Jessica and I could pull off being siblings if her hair was a bit darker. Though the way the Cullen girl had looked at me, as if I were one of a kind, I couldn’t quite use my common features as a way to explain the encounter. I didn’t know if I liked it. So far, I didn’t like anything about this school. 

“I'm glad they're gone. They always attract attention.” Mike grumbled again. He’d done so all the while Jessica described the Cullen boys. “I wish they’d all go to Alaska.”

 _I wish_ I _could go to Alaska. Away from here. Jacob and the boys are probably wondering where I am._

My chair screeched as I stood. Strangers turned their heads from their lunches to eye me again. This wouldn’t have happened at my old school, where thousands of students couldn’t care less about what a stranger might be up to. It made me feel like a freak. I was, a little, though “Non” wolf people wouldn’t know that. “I’m heading to my next class.”

Mike stood. “I’ll take you.”

Jessica stood. “I’ll go with.”

And then Angela stood as well. The dominoes were falling, and all I’d done was breathe. By the time I reached the exit, Mike and Eric marched alongside me while the girls followed behind. I felt I had a posse, and the thought made me cringe as I walked into AP Biology II for the first time. 

Unlike the rest of my classes, this one was quiet. The professor was here early, meticulously sifting through an assortment of manila files and ignoring us. Mr. Banner, I presumed. I would have expected some noise, a tiny wave of murmurs while he organized whatever it was on his desk. Instead, everyone sat relatively still and patient. The serenity was reassuring.

It didn’t take long to discover why everyone was so silent. Mr. Banner righted himself and addressed the class, “I guess you heard the rumors. I do reward extra points to the class with the quietest students. Keep this up for the rest of the year, and I might decide to cancel my final.” A few sniffs of amusement blew behind me. “There are no assigned seats, but I will pair you off if you’re struggling. This class isn’t too difficult, guys, but it won’t be easy. Things like mitosis, meiosis, and cellular labeling should be basics you know from middle school, so I won’t be reviewing that with you. However, if you need a refresher, I have resources that you can look over after class.”

Mr. Banner lifted his glasses and swept the heads of the students in his gaze. He stopped when he saw me, tilting his head, but he didn’t say anything. I smiled when I felt for certain that he wouldn’t make me introduce myself. He passed out our syllabus, a three-page long curriculum that included a subject I’d hoped to take in La Push. Finally, something about this school that excited me. 

“Let’s get cracking.”

The lesson was surprisingly easy to get through. I wasn’t complaining, but it did leave me a lot of time between slides and explanations to sift through the rest of my syllabus and read through each subject. I doodled little wolves on the bullet points that would require my utmost attention, and when my finger landed on the highlighted word _Biochemistry_ , I drew an extra-large wolf with a little note attached. _Antidote_.

Biology, along with Chemistry, is a subject I take great interest in. Humans aren’t the sole owners of organs, and cells, and blood, and gas-exchanges. Humans who happen to turn into wolves have them as well, and it made studying worth my time. How many other people in La Push were in my privileged position, a girl who wasn’t tied to the reservation, or Forks, who could study the things she needed and bring the answers back to the people who desired them. I wasn’t a genius, but I understood more than most in these subjects. It was a passion. A duty.

_“...no closer to figuring out how to end it…”_

From his words last night alone, I could tell Jacob was becoming more frustrated and scared. I was too. Turning into a wolf was not the greatest consequence of Taha Aki’s bloodline. There was something else. Something I liked to push to the back of my mind for as long as I could.

The bell rang. I stayed behind to talk to my new teacher, even though Mike’s lingering figure by the doorway gave me a strong urge to leave. 

“Hello, Mr. Banner,” I said. “I’m Isa—I mean I’m Bella Swan. I transferred from Phoenix.”

“Yes, I know. If there was an error in your schedule, I can’t help you.” He was busy again, shifting papers around and relocating them to other folders. Watching his hands was disorientating.

“That’s not it. I had a question about this class.”

“It’s only the first day, and that doesn’t bode well. AP Bio is demanding,” he said. I was beginning to rethink my earlier conclusion about his course.

“I...no. The lesson was easy to follow.” _Too easy_ , I thought. “My question was about the latter half of the syllabus. I noticed you had a brief section for Biochemistry. Is it possible to extend it past a simple slide?”

His eyes sprung up from his stack of folders and loose papers. There was a quick hint of embarrassment on his face before it softened. “Usually, Biochemistry is taught extensively in college. I don’t think I could go any deeper than a surface-level look into what Biochem entails when you choose to enter a field requiring it.”

“The La Push high school has a program that allows students to take college courses in high school for dual credit,” I said. I had spent hours class shopping with Jacob and preparing the ideal schedule that would benefit us both. We’d wasted our time, evidently. “Principles of Biochemistry is one of those classes offered. Does Forks High have anything similar?”

“We used to. I’m sorry, Bella. I wish I had a better answer.”

I kept myself from frowning. It was fine. We had time. “No, it’s okay. Thank you, Mr. Banner. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

I would have to do my own research and take time out of my own life, looking into the impossibility of wolf-people, of young men who could shift into wild animals. I’d also have to do this in secret. A study hall period would facilitate discretion, but to qualify for one of those, I’d have to be a Senior, according to Eric. The thought of having to sit through regular lectures about normal human bodily functions made me sour for the rest of the day. None of it would help me. Help them.

On the way to my truck, the bright, cloudless gray above me and the soggy crunching of my boots against the concrete parking lot accentuated my gloominess. The first day back to school welcomed the dread that would surely taint my vivid nightmares. I’d have to prepare myself for a sleep haunted by the image of wolves, Cold Ones, and graves. It was like that back when I lived in Phoenix, back when I first learned Sam’s secret. 

“No worries, Alice. I do this all the time!”

I flicked my eyes across the parking lot.

“Please? The black ice will melt.”

Alice Cullen talked to Tyler Crowley while he sat in his truck, driver’s seat, engine running. He appeared more than eager to entertain the girl staring up at him. They were directly behind my parking spot, and as I grew near, Alice’s eyes met mine. Again, she watched me for too long. My brows knit together in irritation, and I turned to stuff my things into my truck while Alice’s voice grew more urgent. “Tyler, it’s dangerous. Wait a bit. Ten minutes?”

“You know, maybe if you throw in a date. I might consider being late to my job.”

Her words stalled. I clung to my open truck door, listening to the hum of Tyler’s running engine. Alice stared up at me again, and I scoffed, going inside. While I hadn’t meant to come across as mean, I knew I had. To be watched like that, like Isabella New Girl Swan was worth the entertainment, irritated. None of these people knew me at all. I bet that, to her, I was another fascinating starter conversation piece that would lose its charm after a couple of days.

The roads were slick with black ice. I went slow, scanning left and right for deers. And hopefully, my friends, who should have been out of school by now. A few times I felt the chains on my tires crunch and crack on the thin, frozen sheets of water. I’d have to make something special for Charlie to thank him for the snow chains.

On one cautionary scan, I noticed a stretching runway of ice leading into a sharp turn. The embankment was protected by trees on my left side and by a railing on the curve. Some signs warned drivers to go slow, and I took those to heart, keeping my foot all the way off the accelerator as I neared the turn. 

My eyes caught a quick movement in the trees.

”Finally.”

Excited, I maneuvered off the road and onto the gravel that lined the edges of the rails. I had to make the turn to do so, parallel parking. The head of my truck now pointed in the opposite direction from the forest. The boys typically avoided the Forks High roads on account of the inexperienced teen drivers and the fact that they cared not at all to know anyone from the inland, but I bet everything that my absence from school had worried them. I crouched in front of the dense forest and peered left and right, heels firmly on the grass to avoid clutz-ing my way down. My breath created a wintry puff, a see-through cloud.

“Jacob,” I whispered. Nothing moved. Nothing stirred. “Sam?”

There was no response, and the cold sent prickles up my arms. I hadn't thought this through. Things that moved in the shadows were plenty, creating a need for signs up and down the roads in Forks. I could be summoning a bear right now for all I knew. “What am I doing?” 

I returned to my truck. Jacob would have called Charlie if he was worried about me, and my dad would have told him the bad news. I’m sure Quil and Embry might have suggested kidnapping me off the road, but Sam would have never allowed it. I upped the heat dial, and as I reached for my seatbelt, I caught the next car heading towards the turn.

_Does this guy have a death wish?_

“Woah!” 

My hand flew to the steering wheel. He was going too fast in his truck! What was Tyler Crowley thinking?!

My palm slammed on my horn repeatedly, but the look on Tyler’s face led me to a frightening conjecture. His tires were sliding on black ice, the breaks long past the point of usefulness, surely pressed all the way down by his stiff legs.

“Tyler!” 

I knew he’d go through the rails easily. I knew. Unless I...

I looked at the near negligible distance between my truck and the path he was taking. With nervous, unsteady fingers, my hand felt for the key to my truck and then the hole that would start my engine. All I needed to do was clip the empty passenger side and he’d careen to safety. I took two quick, desperate breaths, flicked my gaze one more time towards Crowley, and then pressed hard on my accelerator.

This godforsaken truck was so slow. At least, that’s what it felt like. Ages. Centuries until I reached his path. Tyler put his hands up when horror, shock, and recognition flashed across his face, and I realized then that I’d overshot. My door was directly in front of his truck. My wheels came to a stop as I hit the break.

In those last seconds, I saw several things simultaneously. Nothing was moving in slow motion. Not anymore.

Someone opened my passenger side door, tugging on my arm and torso, and then I was flying out of my seat, out of my vehicle. The sky above me was blinding, like the pain that I now felt on my shoulder blades after colliding with a rock hard surface. Angry, high pitched screeching followed by the keening of bending metal made me slap my hands against my sensitive ears. They rang for ten long seconds before the sound of my huffing could be heard. 

My butt was on the gravel patch beside my totaled truck. I blinked as if I were awakening from a dream, a nightmare. A smokey trail to the heavens was the first thing I caught sight of. _Oh no._

“Tyler!” I tried to stand, boots slipping on the gravel under me, but a palm and a soft voice stopped me. 

“Careful, Bella, you might have broken something.”

I whipped my head to my right. All this time, I thought I’d been resting on the rails, but instead, my back pressed against the oddly solid arms of a girl.

“ _Alice_?”

“Sh! Sh!”

“But you?” I tried again, but she moved away from me. 

“Don’t say anything to Tyler. Promise me,” she said in a whisper.

“What?”

Her irises veered back and forth between me and the woods. When I didn’t say anything, she kept her fearful, begging, golden eyes on me. “Please.”

And like that, I was fourteen again. Billy spoke in hushed tones, arms resting on my shoulders and asking me to pledge silence for the sake of our boys.

“I...” My head tipped in Alice’s direction. “I promise.”

Tyler’s groan cut the resulting silence in half. Alice turned to the forest and snuck over the partially dented railings, legs kicking up gracefully. She disappeared into the dark.


	6. Another Phenomenon:Alice

##  _Alice_

I tore through our woods in the strictest fashion, through the web of twining threadbare branches that snapped across my wall for a body, ripping the earth under slim heels and sending it spraying into the air. I was being outrageously uncouth, but with more of the future and more choices arriving, I couldn’t have cared less. I saw my surrogate father Carlisle talking to Tyler. Tyler talking to Chief Swan. Mr. Swan would tell the boy’s parents who had saved their son’s life. I wanted to hear the girl’s name. Really hear it. I wanted to know she was safe, but I stopped myself from having that ease of mind.

The visions were behaving exactly as I needed, creating a distraction and barreling as far away from her image as possible, and yet I hoped they wouldn’t. I hoped they lingered, forever, like the thirst my kind carried. And that _hoping_ sent me into a frenzy, shredding harder and farther into the forest. I was no better than a Newborn lusting for warm, sticky human pulses, the closest thing to ungainly as a vampire could become. When humans are involved, my kind unravels.

_And since the choice is a human, here I am._

When my disoriented body rammed a hundred-year-old tree, I went down a spiraling titan, cracking the trunk’s side and rolling until the momentum gave out. The visions vanished and the questions came running.

What was she doing looking through the woods that I’d hidden in? Was it me? I wished. But who was Jacob? Who was Sam? Why hadn't I seen her in Tyler’s vision? Why couldn’t I see her now, when I’d seen _us_ , enchantingly so, before?

I had lost myself to the future after meeting her in the cafeteria. I’d chosen to suffocate myself in lives that belonged to my neighboring peers, watching future surprises, conversations, unhappy personal moments unfold during instructions I didn’t retain. Futures ran amok, belonging to Benny Dresher, Tamara Wenn, Lidia Caracas, etcetera...etcetera. That’s how I’d known about Tyler Crowley’s accident, about the moment his car went crashing through the railings, killing the boy. 

I’d wanted to help him. 

That’s all. 

“You?” I called from the forest floor, eyes fixed on a blank expanse above me. The tree I’d marred and left fractured stood strong, whereas I was whole and lay brittle as old bones on wet dirt. Why?

Because of her, of course. Because in the length of time needed to ask for her kiss, a cautious caress on red-white cheeks, or a coy smile, the traditional steps that any human might take to brew the very beginnings of love, I’d lived a hundred lifetimes with her. Thousands. Millions. The choices stretching on like the trunks looming around me. 

I wasn’t on a path at all but a tree with too, too many branches. At the tip of each branch was a rounded spade leaf, and on each leaf rested spheres of crystal water that reflected a future of myself with her. Visions. They rained down on me when the tree shook. They disappeared when you picked them off like fruit. They evaporated until one sure fact about this girl who greeted me with frowns, and distrust, and scoffs remained. 

I would come to love her.

No, I did love Bella Swan.

I curled in on myself, held my head against the bombarding flashes of her portrait I thought had disappeared. Words rather than sentences left my lips. “ _Wrong._ _Stop._ _Thinking._ ” And then, I opened my eyes.

 _Jasper._ What would Jasper think of me? All these years not a single touch, not a kiss. He hadn’t asked, hadn’t pried, for the reason we weren’t like Emmett and Rosalie even though it seemed the obvious conclusion. The right one. 

_Alice, why did you jump in?_

"You're so stupid!" I scolded and felt the hiss of my teeth raking against each other.

A single thump near me. Emmett. If I was capable of embarrassment at that moment, I would have felt it. I knew who I was acting like before he said so. "Hello to you, too! And here I thought Edward would win my Most Angsty Cullen award the fiftieth year in a row.” Emmett crouched on a mossy log just above my head. He was smiling his usual boyish smile and looking down at my fallen form with a head tipped in amusement. “If you start going on runs every time you get upset, then you have my vote.”

I uncurled like fiddleheads, in no rush, and pouted. I was not even remotely surprised to see him, currently upside down on account of my own position. I took two big heaping breaths I didn’t need for anything more than the comfort before I spoke, “I suppose I _am_ being a bit more theatrical.”

“You ran out of a cafeteria with no sweater. I was told it was _totes_ freezing this morning by the weather girl,” he said, imitating the young, enthusiastic voice of the intern hired to report the news this season.

His army green bomber jacket reminded me that I’d gone too light with my clothing today. Rookie mistake. I sat upright, spinning to sit criss-cross and face him. “Is Rosalie seething?”

“Yep! But you already know that.” I did know that. I could see the speech she’d prepared to give me in front of Carlisle and Esme. Lots of _Alice, what did I say,_ and very little _Alice, are you okay?_ I wrapped my arms around my legs and frowned. 

Emmett adjusted from a squat to a sitting position on the mossy trunk. He looked natural with his legs extended and his chin pointed up at the trees like a bird watcher. Nearly human. Though the only birds he liked watching ended up in his mouth. He was more at ease out here than inside our secluded home, among white walls and polished floors. 

“Emmett, I think I need to take a break from school. For a while.” 

“Drop out?” he offered. “Wouldn’t be the first time. Remember Jasper in the seventies?”

How could I ever possibly forget? He'd had more close calls than my mind could foresee. I still think I missed a person or two.

I shook my head. “Not for that long. Maybe a month or less. I’d have to ask Carlisle.” 

And he’d say yes. Emmett knew this. Our patriarch would let us do what we thought was best for ourselves.

"We'd be down a Psychic and a Mind-reader. Not to mention Jasper isn't here either. Are you sure? We never know who might come to visit while you're gone."

"I think Forks will be safer with one _less_ hunter. Don't you?"

He grunted. "Only on a technicality. It's not like we hunt _them_. Forks is the safest territory in the U.S."

I didn’t argue against that. Though I wanted to. "I guess, relatively speaking, it is strange how peaceful it is here. Despite us, you know." My head swiveled to my left, to dense forest shrouded in familiar fog . "I hate to leave that. The easiness of this place. Even for a month."

“Does this have to do with that New Girl? Rosalie freaked out when you started talking straight to her. You know you’re not supposed to warn anyone about your visions, no matter what you see. It’s for your own good.” His concern was delivered genuinely, easing into his thick dark brows. Though soon, his curiosity took over the always-present glint in his eyes. “So what was it this time? Is she going to _die_? Did you see her trying to murder somebody? Or was it a tragic love story again? _God no_ , I hate those. I like the happy endings better.”

“I agree,” I mumbled and peered away before my darkening eyes conveyed what my lips weren’t permitted to. “But it wasn’t like that. My decision to go has nothing to do with it. I mistook her for someone from my past. At least, the past that I can remember,” I lied.

He didn’t know about Tyler or the accident, and I wasn’t going to inform him. What would become of Bella Swan if anyone knew that her future image was swimming through my head and that I felt her as close to me as Jasper?

I knew what. I knew without seeing into her future that she’d die. There are rules that the Cullens have that I break sometimes, admittedly. And then, there are rules the Vampire Kind have that no one in their right mind would think to disregard. It's a good thing I'm sound of mind, and it's a good thing I know which rules not to break. I just need some time to remember that. 

I stood and turned, though there was no need. Our faces didn’t convey emotions as well as a human’s, but Emmett had a suspiciously accurate knack for determining moods that could rival Jasper’s. I chalked it up to Rosalie being so hard to please. He’s had to make up for it by training himself to predict her mood swings. 

“Vision?” he asked. I said nothing, though I’d have to come up with something to appease him.

I looked into the forest, and for the first time, into the visions that had scared me away. I dared not look too deeply again. There had been too many choices, overwhelming me, and some had shown a reality for the girl that certain beings in my family would never allow me to accept. I didn’t dwell on those. I was on a mission for something in particular. I scoured my mind, but what I wanted didn’t come to me. 

"Bad or good?" Emmett tried. The answer was usually more complicated than that.

There were no visions of Bella by herself. Wherever she was, I was too. That made my ears buzz from fear, sounds like running water wading in and out. I couldn’t see her. No matter how hard I tried. I couldn’t see _just_ her.

In Forks, no one was spared my visions. I was ingrained in this town’s future. It was here I joined the Cullens, and it was me who kept them safe from the town and vice versa. Emmett didn’t know the pains I went through to make sure strangers wouldn’t get too close, the rules I broke to warn humans of imminent danger. Vampire related or otherwise. Forks was my home, my territory, for as long as I wanted.

_It can survive for a month or two without you._

I collected what remained of my rattled senses, putting on a million-watt smile before pivoting to face Emmett. He watched me mindfully this time, concerned for me in the manner only another vampire could ever express, without worry for my physical wellness but my mental one. I chirped, feigning excitement, “Lucky you! A bear is lingering too close at the campsites. You might want to take care of that before he finds a snack amongst the humans.”

That did the trick. Emmett’s face broke into a wide grin. “ _Ooh_. My favorite kind of vision!” His interests as a vampire were simple, and fortunately for me, when he made a decision, he stuck to it. He crouched on the log again and leaped, catching a branch on a tree above my head.

I looked up.

He said, “Whatever’s happening, little sis, don’t let it happen alone.”

It took me an hour to leave the forest’s comforting stillness and take his words into account. I returned to the Cullen House, a lifeless modern mansion that Carlisle bought ages ago in these living old woods. Rosalie wasn’t home yet. Neither was Emmett. I found Esme in her conservatory, the side of the house that the rest of us thought was useless because of the little sun we received but that she refused to tear down. Here is where she’d learned how to bring artificial light to her plants and real maternal devotion to me and Jasper. She rose away, in a white summer dress, from a new set of wooden planters that had yet to sprout. They would. Little buckets of lavender.

“Alice?” she wondered when she saw me. I was a motionless ghost by the entrance. "Are you alright?"

I could do nothing but reach out and hug her for warmth neither of us could feel.


	7. Initiations:Bella

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there. First off, a fair warning. Because I want to have fun writing this project, updating will be casual. There might be more typos from now on, but nothing so bad you’ll be PMing me links to Merriam-Webster. Secondly, I love any feedback. What would you like to see more of? Is anything confusing? I’m writing this on the fly, so I wouldn’t be shocked if it is. 
> 
> Thirdly and most importantly, even though this is fanfiction, it still feels more than a little off to use a real tribe as a basis for the wolves. I’ve decided that Jacob and the boys are part of the “Aki Tribe” named after their fictional ancestor. They're smaller and less welcoming than their neighbors, the Quileutes. In my opinion, the real tribe and their customs shouldn’t be linked to the Twilight commercial franchise. So! Do go to QuileuteNation.org to read about just how different they are from the books and take the time to learn about Indian Country Etiquette.
> 
> Thank you!

##  _Bella_

FIFTEEN-YEAR-OLD ME KNEW not to brawl with the La Push boys. It got you weird looks from the girls on the Aki reservation. It generated talk among the older teens who accused you of wanting a certain kind of attention. It made people who worked with your father approach him near the station water cooler and comment “ _she needs more friends in town, Charlie_.” But most importantly, it got you hurt.

Jacob and I found out the hard way. We were using sticks as swords on the beach one morning when he jabbed my shoulder. Too hard. 

_“Jacob?”_ I’d whispered after he had stopped without warning. 

He screamed for Billy.

I hadn’t felt the pointed end go in...and out. I hadn’t felt it until the boys came rushing over and their not-yet-grown faces told me that something was terribly off.

I learned, then, that my friends could hurt me if _I_ wasn’t careful. If _I_ didn’t pay attention. It was not their fault that I liked to be near them. It wasn’t their problem that I not only invited trouble...I was it.

**♠️**

_Don’t think. Don’t do it. Don’t._

But it was impossible not to. In fact, my first thought after being checked over by a nurse was this:

There was no way in Heaven or below that a small girl like her could have reached me in time. No way.

My second thought was: Is she even human?

That brought me to my third thought, which I _refused_ to complete as I walked the empty nighttime hallways of the Forks General Hospital. But, boy, was it intrusive. It kept needling me until I stopped to shake out my hair and rub hard at my sweaty face in anger. It pricked me until I scratched off the bandage on my wrist.

 _“Urgh!”_ I growled.

I was no one to Alice Cullen. To anyone in Forks. How could she have asked me to keep a secret for her when we’d only once exchanged glances? I had enough already. _And newsflash_ , I thought, _you shouldn’t trust strangers to keep your promises_.

That final thought I’d suppressed earlier ambushed me all of a sudden: _She has to be like Sam._

Absolutely not. That would make her a shifter, and Alice didn’t look like a shifter. She was small, pale, thin. Strong and quick, yes, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be human.

I thought back to her face. First, in the parking lot, and then, behind me. My brows scrunched up in frustration as I recalled her eyes. 

They were golden.

Could shifters have golden eyes? Vampires certainly didn’t. Did this new Child of the Moon creature have golden eyes? From what I’d interpreted of Old Quil’s story last night, Children of the Moon were normal humans until the _full moon_ , which meant Alice couldn’t have beat Tyler’s truck.

 _Maybe she’s something entirely different._ _Like another creature._

I halted before my brain oozed out of my ears.

I found my father after a minute of searching. He was in the cafeteria. I didn’t approach him while he spoke with the Crowleys, not feeling up to listening to more “thank yous” and “how could we ever repay yous.” I opted to sit by a round table near a wall of vending machines. They talked for another minute or two before a child, maybe Tyler’s baby sister urged them to leave. Charlie turned around and found me waiting, two drinks in his hand.

“His family is nice. Eager, but nice,” I said as the soft scrape of the disposable paper cup he placed in my hand scratched against my fingers. The warm scent of chocolate filled the air between my nose and the wobbling liquid in the cup. 

“They’re good people.” Charlie sat down on the opposite end of the table, waving goodbye to Tyler’s smiling family. They waved back at him and at _me_ with four times the vivacity and gratefulness. Once relaxed, he blew air out his cheeks in a deflating gust. “I don’t want to think about what Renée is going to say. Your second day back and this happens.”

“We could _not_ tell her,” I tossed. 

“Like we didn’t tell her when you fell on that stick at La Push beach? I still wonder how you managed to impale yourself.” He took a sip from his coffee and shook his head. We’d be hiding that little secret ‘til the grave. “I’ll keep the details to a minimum. We’ll say you got into a minor accident with another student. Renée won’t know about the truck.”

 _“My truck…”_ I mourned.

He smiled ruefully and passed me a napkin to wipe my lips with. “Jacob will get it fixed some way, somehow. Speaking of who, the boy phoned the station while he was at school. I told him about our little inconvenience with the district zoning policy. You might want to pop in tomorrow and make sure he’s okay. He sounded worried.” A sip, then he tilted his cup in my direction. “You can take a day off.”

“I might,” I agreed. 

I might take two. I needed time to process something. Okay, someone. A she. That she was boarding free of charge inside my mind, a tiny figure sneaking past the metal gates I used to filter bad thoughts and ideas. She was setting off all the alarms and wailing sirens I’d hoarded inside my brain over the years since discovering Sam.

Alice Cullen. Weird, ethereal, Alice Cullen.

How irritating. I was acting like my new classmate Jessica Stanley, creating too much fascination over someone who was likely a normal girl. Maybe I’d closed my eyes too soon, missed the part where she’d gotten in her car, sped ahead of me, and reached the place of the accident before I had. Or, more likely even, she’d taken a shortcut through the woods that I didn’t know about. I shouldn’t feel so inclined to wedge her into my world. No matter how much her eyes said she’d fit right in.

“Bells?” Dad tried. I startled. I’d been staring too intensely at the steam from my plain hot chocolate. “Let’s get you home.”

When Charlie’s police cruiser pulled up to our house, I saw the full damage on my poor, old-yet-new Chevy truck. Her head was bashed in, the cap caved and bent so that it was near twice the height from before. Our lips parted in surprise when the engine came into view, and I swallowed when we passed the driver’s side. Which no longer existed. 

_Good luck, Jake._

Dad didn’t think it was a good idea for me to start on chores my second day back, and after my accident, he outright refused to let me lift a finger. He made a rare effort to cook dinner before I took a shower, the expected result of which was the scent of burnt bread rolls throughout the house. I watched with a smile on my face and from my seat on the kitchen table as he stared down his pan with all the seriousness of a police detective on a crime scene. Two hours later, I loaded up the internet and shot Renée an email detailing —or rather heavily editing and summarizing—my first day of school. 

Later, with fairly decent pulled pork and seasoned vegetables in my stomach, I settled in for the night, tucking myself all the way into my covers and facing my window for the little nightlight that filtered through the glass and bathed the wooden floor. It made me feel safe. Protected.

_What are you afraid of, Bella? You’re friends with the big, bad beasts that live in the forest._

Not all of them.

Alice Cullen saved me from death in the nick of time and my immediate thought wasn’t that she was a godsend, or lucky, or my guardian angel. It was that she had golden eyes as I’d never seen before and that she’d blended into the forest almost as well as Jacob.

 _“Fairy,_ ” I whispered quickly, and then nearly laughed aloud at myself, partially snorting. Who had ever heard of a guardian fairy? I twisted in my sheets, placing my hands behind my head. “Pixie-Shifter?”

This time I did laugh and threw my covers away, standing. I walked on the balls of my feet, rolling them so they wouldn’t make a sound as I crept to my desk. Carefully, I clicked on the lamp and rummaged under stacks of forgotten classics.

 _Wuthering Heights_ , the second copy I kept here, was all the way at the bottom. Inside, there was a square cubby I’d made by cutting out the center of the pages, and in that cubby was a key.

“She’s too small to be a wolf,” I decided then and there as I let the key fall into my palm. Bending, I moved my chair out of my desk’s way and found the compartment I kept locked. When I opened it, my heart started beating rapidly.

_People in Forks don’t just ask you to keep promises for no reason, Bella._

Three years ago, I started journaling my observations. Never in great detail. Never in a way that would make someone question my sanity. But I did journal them. I wrote down what I knew about my friends, each page titled the name of the person who had inspired me that day. Most of them were of Sam. Second, Jacob. 

Today, it was Alice Cullen. On a new page. In my third journal of observations.

_August 28th, 2005_

_Her eyes are golden._

_She saved me._

_Fast._

_Strong._

_Fairy_ , I wanted to write, but the thought was so ridiculous I had to put my pen down until the embarrassment passed. Instead, I jotted:

_She made me promise not to tell._

I was sure that keeping a scientific journal about your encounter was not the _normal_ reaction to suspecting a stranger of being a supernatural creature. Nor was it a normal reaction _to_ suspect a stranger of being a supernatural creature. I was jumping the gun, perhaps. All I could say in my defense was that three years of friendship with wolf boys didn’t prime me for normalcy. Nor had I wanted it to.

_Tap!_

I turned in my chair.

_Tap!_

My window. I approached it cautiously, which was dumb in hindsight. There was only one person who knocked on my window at this late hour.

“ _J_ _ake,_ ” I whispered angrily, “you’re going to break the glass. _Again._ ”

He gestured for me to come down. But not just come down. _Fall_ down, so he’d catch me.

 _“No.”_ I had one death-defying experience. It was enough. I wasn’t having another one. 

Before I could tell him that I’d skip school to visit him tomorrow, he was on his way, limbs spidering up the tree near my window. Out of habit, I backed up and waited for him to catapult his way in.

His first words were, “Why do you smell so weird?”

“Awesome, Jacob. You’re lucky I’m so immensely tired that I don’t care to scold you right now.”

He fixed his shirt and crossed his arms. “I’m the one who should be scolding. You could have skipped that god-awful first day at school and come to the reservation. District rules, my wolfy bare ass.”

“You heard that my truck nearly ate me?”

“Yeah. I heard _all_ the bad news today from your dad,” he grumbled, tossing his gaze where my Chevy would be. Somebody wasn’t looking forward to tackling that specific project. “But forget about that for a second, I came to tell you something _good_ Jared found out while I was at school and you were kamikaze-ing into that boy's truck.”

“Jared’s back?!”

He smiled devilishly. “And he brought friends.”

“Friends, wha—”

He turned and bent a little. “Shh. Get on.”

“Right now? _No.”_

“Bella, for god sakes.”

“What for?”

He straightened. “Don’t you get it? New pack members. New specimens for your freaky Bio experiments,” he raised his hand before I could object to his use of _freaky,_ “and you’re in for one helluva surprise when you meet them.”

 _Them?_ I checked Jacob under the light from my lamp for any signs that he was pulling my leg. When nothing registered, I flicked my gaze to my open journal on my desk. 

I grabbed for it, and when I turned, Jacob was primed for a piggyback. My shoulders slumped.

I wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.

**♠️**

I’d always been a good student, prone to bouts of long, excruciatingly detailed monologues about everything I’d learned. Back when my mother pretended to listen, and she and I were the only two who tolerated each other’s quirks. As I grew older, bookish, studious, and diligent were adjectives frequently used to describe me. Which meant I had the personality of a 70-year-old German philosopher, something my mother loved to allude to. I was an old soul by virtue of being boring, but I didn’t mind. I liked to learn.

That being said: Here were four major things I learned about the La Push wolves.

One: The Shift was something inherited. It was bloodline-related. All the boys had something in common. Though we didn’t like talking about it in front of Embry.

Two: Five days of a hellish fever preceded the first shift. I’d witnessed Jacob’s. Sat by his bedside as his scorching body prepared itself for the impossible.

Three: All the wolves were boys. Which was another major reason I believed Alice wasn’t a wolf. (Along with the fact that she was paler than milk and all the Aki descendants were various shades of a natural tan.)

Four: Shifting comes with a price.

When Jacob and I arrived at a familiar cabin with a blue door, tucked deep into the woods, I expected to be greeted by a new pair of scared Aki boys who were at most sixteen years of age. 

Instead:

“Stay back, Bella.” 

Sam caught my arm before I could step through the front door that led straight into his kitchen. I shivered when I felt the blast of steamy heat wafting from inside collide with my cold skin. Embry’s familiar soft-spoken, yet teasing voice came from beside him. “I told you she’d run straight in. Chill, Bella. It’s still a furnace in there.”

Jacob’s reply was a rumble. Gone was the mischief from earlier. “Are you kidding? She hasn’t gone out of it?”

“ _She?_ ” I exclaimed, then repeated, whipping around to face Sam. _“She?”_

I tried stepping in again but got as far as a foot before the heat slapped me and Embry gently pulled me back this time, patting my chest when I inched too close. I caught just the briefest glimpse of shivering, glistening legs on top of a long table. 

“Blows a hole in your Y chromosome theory, huh?” Jacob came to stand guard beside me. 

“A huge one.” I opened my journal and clicked the top of my pen. “What’s her name?”

Sam looked primed to respond, and he opened his mouth as if he planned to. In the blink of an eye, however, it was closed again. He growled low in his throat and shook his head, “ _Ridiculous_. She’s literally in the other room.”

“I tried telling her on the way. Same thing happened,” Jacob informed with a knowing smile. “She’ll figure it out. I’m pretty sure we can’t physically prevent her from crossing the threshold.”

“Sorry, Bella,” Embry added. He dipped his head, grinning shyly and letting his long hair tickle my shoulder as he backed up. Without Quil around, I once noted, Embry seemed to turn into a mild-mannered puppy. 

I rolled my eyes, putting my pen back in my pocket, jutting my gaze between the three. “Someday we’re going to have to figure out how to override pack rules that were made before any of us were born. Where’s Paul, Quil, and Emily, by the way?”

“Emily’s at her mother’s,” Sam said.

Before he could continue, a voice came from the woods, “And Paul and Quil have parents that actually notice when their kids are out of bed.”

We all turned as a stocky, wide figure crunched over the grass and the gravel drive, unphased by the jagged, rough trek under his bare feet. He looked exactly as I remembered him, scruffy, hair to his shoulders, dark circles under his narrow eyes. His thin brows skyrocketed when I turned.

“Jared!” I beamed. Two long arms came to wrap around me, and I melted easily. I liked to think that if Sam has the demeanor and cred of a sweet but overburdened grandfather, then his best friend Jared must be the slightly eccentric but always welcome great-uncle. Though I couldn’t stress this enough, they were both older than me by two measly years.

“Bella! I could smell you from a mile away. You really need to switch to a new shampoo.” He rocked us back and forth. I swatted him, but I was acutely aware of that being the second comment on my smell since arriving. Stupid Forks High must have rubbed off on me. 

“Mind if I steal her for a bit,” he said to Jacob, who lifted a dubious brow, “Relax, I’m not going to tempt her. Not that I could, huh Bella?” He snorted. 

I felt my cheeks warm and kicked his calf, but it didn’t even phase him. Jared’s comments were a product of his very brief stint as a casanova that ended in a protective Jacob confessing one of my deepest held secrets. Jake was forever regretful, and Jared liked poking fun at me to rile him up.

After exchanging glances with gradually infuriating Jacob, he turned to me, “Walk with me to the back of the property.”

“But I want—”

“I know, but we need to compare some highly classified notes.” And that alone was enough to get me to follow. I waved goodbye to the boy’s bobbing heads and started crunching on the gravel. Though the house wasn’t big, the greenery made us circle wide around it. 

As we walked, I asked him, “When do you think you’ll be finished archiving?”

“Pretty soon. Oral history is a pain. It makes you feel a part of something, but _geez_ , is it hard to ask an old man in the woes of storytelling to slow down so you can write down what you hear. I need one of those mp-three recorders, but Old Quil distrusts technology more than Cold Ones in my opinion.”

“Is that why the Aki People don’t have a website?”

“That and what would we put in it? _Ah yes, some of our people turn into literal wolves._ ”

“People…” I echoed. Not men. Not boys. 

_Alice._

We made it to the back, and I gasped, thoughts of tiny, pale shape-shifters swatted out of my mind. Someone had decorated the backyard tree branches with yellow lanterns and white ribbons that wrapped around the trunks like wispy garlands. My guess was Emily. For her wedding. And when our shadows were eaten by their light, Jared spun around and leaned against a trunk. 

“So our biggest theory is a huge bust. A female shifter _,_ ” he said, bringing my attention back to him. “I went to visit her home, intent on searching for her brother actually. Sam had already suspected the boy was one of us when they crossed paths at the beach, and we thought it was about time he learned the truth. Imagine my shock when I get there, and it’s hotter than hell in the house.”

“How long has she been out?”

“Four hours since she went comatose.”

“Took you five, right?” I recalled. My last journal had been exclusively about Jared, who was second to turn after his best friend. He loved to prattle on about his shift as much as the rest of them. “You were the longest.”

“Um, hers might be six,” he huffed, defensive as I grinned. “And since Jacob awoke in an hour, and Sam in two, I don’t think we have a pattern there. I don’t think we have a pattern anywhere,” he finished, putting his hands into the pockets of his camo pants. The smiley face on his white t-shirt felt kind of mocking. 

“There’s still the puberty theory and the hereditary thing. I’m guessing _she_ is within one of the three branches directly related to Taha Aki.” I picked at my pocket and then clicked the back of my pen. “So?” 

“Nope, don’t ask me about a name. I’m as bound as all the others. No exceptions. And trust me, I’ve been looking for _every_ exception. But here’s something I can tell you, she and her brother are the last ones.”

“To shift?”

“Yes! We all feel it, Bella. There’s this new emotion hanging in the air like we’re _complete_. It’s strange but exciting. I don’t know how to describe it to you perfectly. It’s a little like walking into your home and realizing your lost family members are there for a feast but increased by a factor of a billion.”

I smiled, trying to hide my awe. Jacob _had_ been giddier back in my room. “A family bond.”

He reciprocated the smile with less restraint. “Like we talked about the last time you were here, we are all distantly related. Family. Which, hm, makes things really awkward for some of us.”

I’ll say. I could think of one example explicitly. The image of the smiling, thick-lipped boy with crater dimples flashing inside my head. “Embry?”

“Oh...no. I mean _yes_ , but not about him this time. God, I wish I’d kept my mouth shut about our family records to you.”

“Boohoo,” I drawled, “now we’re both carrying life-altering secrets for each other.”

Jared was archiving Old Quil’s knowledge of the three branches in the Aki tribe that are direct descendants of him. The Uleys, The Blacks, and The Atearas. Our always sweet, always reserved Embry Call was born into a neighboring reservation. No one knew who his father was, but Jared had let it slip one day that it had to be Sam’s, Jacob’s, or Quil’s father, who were all married happily at the time of conception, which made for an awkward situation for both of us as _I was the one he’d let it slip to_.

I cleared my throat, “So not him. Then?”

“Sam and —” His mouth closed with a snap. I tried to hide my laugh by twisting my face to the forest. “Sam and _the girl_. They used to date when he was fifteen. It didn’t end so well.”

“I’d bet.” I grimaced. “The whole ‘ _all in the family’_ thing doesn’t fly nowadays.”

“Okay, no, they’re not that related. And that’s not the reason they broke up.”

“Whatever,” I laughed. Then, without breaking the ease of the conversation, I tried, “Maybe I should go in? I’ve only witnessed _Jacob’s_ change to completion. I have an opportunity to witness another and take some notes.”

He considered me for a little while. Then, in the blink of an eye, he pried my journal from my hands. I freaked and put my palms up to stop him, but his fingers were already sifting through the pages. I held my breath. Each time a page fluttered, I pictured Alice’s name unfolding before him.

“Here,” he said finally and returned my journal, pointing at one of my notes over my shoulder. I relaxed. “Last February, you wrote that the blood cells I provided for you reacted to Jacob’s the same way they reacted to Sam’s, Paul’s, and Embry’s—Quil is still too chicken shit to give you any, by the way—We don’t know what those observations mean. But I have a theory. Only problem is, I need to be in shift to prove it.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Well, first. Talk quieter. Sam and Jacob will one-hundred percent pull you out of this plan, and that room, if they find out. Secondly, take note of her reactions as I approach. _Don’t_ get so close. We don’t want you to end up in the hospital because of one of us,” he paused to roll his eyes, “again.”

I was already bobbing my head, too eager to see Jared in his wolf form. He chuffed at my enthusiasm. With a twirl of his finger, he gestured for me to turn around. I did, listening to the rustle of his clothing. 

“Socks too—”

“I got it. I got it.”

I walked forward, giving him the space necessary to shake out of his very skin. A sound like gravel raking across itself proceeded the blast of heat that hit my back. It wasn’t as intense as the one in Sam’s house, but it made me shiver nonetheless. Jared’s cold nose touched the back of my hand seconds after, and I knew it was safe to turn around. His brown fur tickled the tips of my fingers when he pulled his head away from me, to the house's back deck. I took the hint.

Emily had chosen this home far away from the Aki reservation because of the unusual design. Tip-toeing in through the open sliding doors was like walking into a wooden den. There was a dip in the middle, a split level from the rest of the living room, where pillows and futons rather than couches awaited, a temporary measure until Emily and Sam could afford more furniture. Emily told me she liked it because a massive beast could enter through the back door and stalk into the house at any moment. As was now happening.

The heat inside made the pale flesh above my brows break out into a sweat immediately. Jared nudged me ahead when I stalled, debated with myself whether I should be doing this given what I knew. Jacob’s change had been...violent. I’d hidden behind his closet door as he thrashed and destroyed his room. Sam had ripped him a new one after it was over and discovered me inside. I was sure both would have a fit when they saw me, but they couldn’t stop me when I was this far in. They never could stop me from being apart of them.

“Oh, _hell._ ”

Jacob saw me at the same time I saw her.

She was absolutely beautiful, as they all were, skin tan, hair dark, but her’s was shorter than most of the boys, cut down to her chin. Her breath came in speedy little bursts, trembled out of her body, sucked back in shakily. The eyes shifting underneath her eyelids moved as if she were having a nightmare. She kind of was.

“Bella!” Sam exclaimed, stepping into the room. I ignored him, taking out my journal and pen. Jacob and Embry stayed outside, their frames blocking the entrance and keeping the heat in better than any door. 

“What’s her name?” I asked again.

None of them spoke, though Embry’s mouth was in the process of closing when I looked up. I left blank the top of the page I began writing on. Most of my observations were the same.

_Shivers_

_Sweat._

_Immense heat._

_Labored breathing._

Sam said, “Shit, Jared. You better have a good explanation.” 

I felt his fur at my hip. He wanted space to come through. The arch for the doorway to the living room was big enough for both of us, and as planned, I kept my eyes on her while he took his first purposeful step.

I wrote what was a noticeable new series of reactions.

_Eye twitch._

_Arm muscle spasm._

_Her breath hitched_

_Her back arched._

_Her first growl._

_Snarling_

My head snapped up. “Uh oh.”

_Her eyes opened._

“Back up!” Sam hollered. The room exploded into cacophony.

Jacob, Embry, and Sam flew back, with only the last remaining inside. I gave a cry, Jared pinning me to the kitchen wall as the table gave out underneath the girl, splitting. Her arms flew out first. Then her back. Then her legs that snapped out from under her. It sounded like cloth tearing into strips, and it looked like it too. Flesh shredding apart in seconds, but not quick enough to spare me the sight. It was like a slowed-down version of what the others could do.

She thrashed like a serpent, whipping her head and her tail. Her expanding, growing body rammed into the walls, taking down clamoring pans and pots. She clawed the brown cupboards in a swift swipe of her gray paw. It was enough to scare me back. Jared’s weight fell hard on my gut, winding me.

“Leah! Leah, it’s okay!” Sam said. The strain in his voice almost distracted me from his words. 

That was her name. Leah. She was fully shifted, the boys freed from their duty to keep her name secret, and therefore:

“The wolf is out of the bag,” Embry whispered, awed by her appearance as much as I was.


End file.
